The Gift
by Lady Bracknell
Summary: On the day of Bill and Fleur’s wedding, Harry appears not to be in the party mood. He and Remus have a heart to heart about the future, love, and doing the noble prat thing. RLNT, HPGW


**Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to JK Rowling…. **

**A/N: Wrote a rough draft of this ages ago, with the intention of posting it on Harry's birthday. I never got round to it, but tweaked it this week as an exercise for MetamorficMoon on LJ and was really pleased with the way it turned out. And (she said, plugging shamelessly) if you fancy some festive Remus/Tonks, there's a fic Advent going on over there – posting starts today…. **

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Bill and Fleur's wedding had been a joyous occasion, the kind of joyous occasion none of them had dared to even hope for. The Death Eater attack that everyone had been half-expecting and fully prepared for, even though it hadn't been largely discussed or even referred to by anyone other than Order members, hadn't come, and the sun had shone down on The Burrow as if it, too, were relieved that everything had gone more or less to plan.

Remus had Tonks in his arms, and in spite of everything going on in the world, nothing else mattered. He knew he should have cared about the delightful buffet, the wonderful cake, the perfect service, the family tiara that had gone so far to healing so many wounds, but he couldn't really find it within himself to be overly bothered about anything other than the woman in his arms. He was fascinated by the way her waist felt underneath his fingers, captivated by the way her breath tickled his face as she laughed, and spellbound by the half-coy smile she kept shooting him from his shoulder, as if she couldn't really believe this was happening either.

They'd been dancing for most of the evening on the makeshift, fairy-lit dance floor, to the strains of some achingly sophisticated music chosen by Fleur, who had steadfastly refused to give in to Molly's pleas for a couple of dozen of Celestina Warbeck's best numbers to 'liven things up a bit', and Remus couldn't help feeling as if he was floating, even though Tonks kept trying to lead and kicking him in the shins, and occasionally had stepped on his toes.

He'd never expected this. To have her at all was miraculous; to have her, spend a year pushing her away and then get her back was unbelievable, and every time he thought of it he wanted to laugh, or cry, or hex himself to make sure it wasn't a dream. Having Tonks in his arms, nestled against his shoulder as they danced, was more than he had ever, ever hoped for, which he supposed accounted for the floating feeling.

He looked up, and over Tonks' head he saw Harry wandering on his own a little way off, distinctly lacking in party spirit as he toed the grass and undid the neck of his dress robes irritably. "What?" Tonks said, looking up as he slowed their pace a little to watch.

"Nothing," he said. "Just – Harry."

"I know," Tonks said, squeezing him reassuringly. "Poor kid. You know he broke up with Ginny?"

"Hmm."

Tonks settled back on his shoulder for a moment, and he took the opportunity to revel in the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, all the little things he'd missed. And then she leant back, offering him a cheeky smile which caused a cave-in in his stomach and only added to the long list of things he was certain he never wanted to do without again. "Maybe you should go and talk to him," she said. "Tell him that one noble prat is enough for any wedding party and you've got the role well and truly covered."

Remus couldn't resist a chuckle, even though it felt completely unreal, still, that the last year was something they could joke about. "Maybe," he said, and shifted closer, wrapping his arms more tightly around her and leaning in to whisper in her ear. "I'm not sure I want to let you go, though."

"Worried I'll run off with Mad-Eye?" she said, dark eyes twinkling as they darted to Alastor, who was backed into a corner with Molly trying to force-feed him sausage rolls despite his vigorous protests.

"Naturally."

Tonks chuckled against his chest, making him feel like he'd been hit with half a dozen Cheering charms. "I promise not to run off with Mad-Eye," she said, easing away from him a little. "Maybe I'll go and offer some words of encouragement," she said, nodding towards Ginny, who was sitting at the bridesmaid's table the wrong way round on a chair, her chin resting on the back, looking to all intents and purposes as if her world had ended. Tonks frowned a little, as if she wasn't quite sure she was up to the task. "Or teach her some hexes," she said, brightening at the thought, "you know, whatever's most likely to cheer her up."

After pressing a soft kiss to Tonks' temple, Remus made his way across the grass to where Harry was standing, apparently fascinated by the moss in the lawn beneath his feet. "Hello Harry," he said as he approached, and Harry looked up.

"Hello," he replied, a rather hollow tone in his voice. "Are you enjoying the wedding?"

"Hmm," Remus said. "You look like you'd rather be anywhere else."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched into what may or not have become a smile, had it not been overtaken by a frown, and Remus gestured towards a hill a little way off. Harry nodded, and, by mutual assent, they started to walk, and eventually found themselves on the brow of the small hill, privy to a great view of the whole wedding as the sun began its descent towards the horizon, setting the sky ablaze.

"I thought we should have a chat," Remus said, and motioned for Harry to sit. They both sank down onto the soft grass, and Remus followed Harry's gaze down to the edge of the dance floor, where Tonks and Ginny were standing together on the grass, chatting. "I think we've both got our work cut out for us there," he said, nodding in their general direction.

"I broke up with Ginny," Harry said blankly.

"I broke up with Tonks," Remus returned. "Or tried to." He smiled at the thought, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Harry watching him intently, and so he glanced at him and continued. "She wouldn't have it, and I doubt Ginny will take it lying down either."

"She has to," Harry said, looking away sharply.

Remus sighed and leant back, resting on one hand and stretching his legs out in front of him, remembering his own creeping realisation that someone who pushed her away for her own good was the very last thing Tonks had needed, and how he'd never listened to anyone's protests that he was doing the wrong thing because he'd been so convinced he was right. "I thought that too," he said quietly.

"Thought?"

Harry's eyes snapped back to his, and Remus nodded. "I have only recently realised what a giant fool I've been."

Harry raised an eyebrow at him, the faintest trace of amusement on his face – for a moment looking so much the image of a red-headed girl who had done a lot of eyebrow raising of her own that Remus couldn't resist a smile. "It's not a nice feeling, Harry," he said, returning his amusement, "realising what a fool you've been, especially when your foolishness is on such a gargantuan scale it may have cost you the best thing that ever happened to you and your only real chance at happiness."

Harry's eyes fixed on Ginny, off in the distance, laughing at something Tonks was saying, and when he spoke his voice had a determined steel to it. "I need to keep her safe," he said.

"I know," Remus said quietly. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

He took a deep breath, hoping that he had the words. "The last year has been very tough on you," Remus said.

"Not just me," he said, looking up at him pointedly, and Remus' heart constricted at the thought that in amongst everything, Harry had the capacity to be concerned about others. About him.

"No," Remus said, offering him a small smile of gratitude, "but I think we both know that few have suffered a similar level of loss so close to home."

Harry gave him a half-smile of acknowledgement, and Remus folded his hands in his lap, gazing at the pink sky, following the progress of a couple of skittish clouds that dallied beyond the trees. "I don't mean to depress you, Harry," he said, "but I think we both know enough of what's coming to know that the next years might be just as tough, if not tougher." Harry nodded with a kind of grim acceptance, rather than glumness or sorrow, and Remus couldn't help but be impressed by his composure. "And the thing – " Remus started, and then stopped himself, trying to put into words what he should say – what he wanted to say. "What do you think it is that separates us, makes us different from the Death Eaters – from Voldemort – Harry?"

Harry shrugged and shook his head vaguely. "Love," Remus said. "We fight for – because of – those we love, those we have loved. They fight for power, or out of fear – and that's why we'll win. I'm sure you, of all people, know that love – the power of love – should never be underestimated." Harry met his eye a little tentatively, and Remus leaned towards him and smiled sheepishly. "Even though the more foolish amongst us sometimes forget that for a while."

Remus let out a low, soft chuckle, which Harry joined him in. "I haven't been a very good friend to you recently," Remus said, his voice laced with apology. "In fact," he said, sitting back a little, his voice lilting with unexpected amusement, "I haven't been a very good anything to anybody –" Harry looked up and Remus met his eye, peering at him through his fringe as he tilted his chin down and looked at him. " – unless we count my extreme foolishness, which, for now, I would rather we didn't."

Harry let out a soft breath of amusement. "S'alright," he said.

"No, Harry, it's not," Remus said quietly, thinking that that was exactly what Lily – or James – would have said in the same situation.

He looked off towards the horizon, and then let his eyes wander from the burning sunset to the wedding. Tonks and Ginny were still talking, standing close together and leaning in conspiratorially, and he wished he could see Tonks' face properly, because her eyes were at their most beautiful when she was doing something – or thinking about doing something – that she knew she shouldn't.

Harry shifting on the grass next to him, crossing his legs and toying with the lace on one of his dress shoes, attracted Remus' attention, drawing him out of wondering exactly which inventive hexes Tonks had taught Ginny and what Molly would say if she ever found out. He turned towards Harry a little, determined to say the one thing that he really wanted to.

"I know you'll be of age in a few weeks," Remus said, "but I just wanted you to know that, should you ever want help of any sort, my door is always open." Harry met his eye, his flickering with something that looked a bit like gratitude, and Remus pressed on. "I'm a rather poor and second-rate substitute for Sirius – and Dumbledore is irreplaceable," he said, "but the offer is there, should you ever have need of it."

"Thanks," Harry said, apparently fascinated by the grass underneath his heel. "I think this is going to be something I have to do on my own, though. Besides, everyone who's tried to protect me is dead."

"I didn't make the offer to protect you, Harry," Remus said, his brow furrowing a little. "We both know that nobody can lead you down the path you've got to take, because the only person who has trodden it before is you." He sighed, remembering many conversations he'd had with Sirius – Firewhiskey and late night fuelled – about how they both wished, more than anything, to take Harry's place. "I'm not going to stand in front of you like a guard dog," he said, and Harry looked up, so Remus smiled, leaning forward a bit in hopeful conviviality that he trusted wasn't misplaced. "Alongside, or even slightly behind you is fine with me. And with the rest of the Order."

For a moment, he swore Harry had stopped breathing. "So you're in charge of the Order now, are you?" he asked, his eyebrows inching up behind his hair.

"I rather think I might be," Remus said, crossing his ankles in front of him and leaning back on his hands. "Dumbledore and his misplaced faith in people, you know?"

"It's not misplaced," Harry said defiantly, and Remus smiled, and then grinned, because Harry sounded so unbelievably certain.

But he didn't know what else he'd expected, because this was Harry Potter, who'd battled the greatest Dark wizard of all time and lived to tell the tale, who'd stood up to the Minister of Magic, and who'd opened himself to his demons in a deserted classroom again and again to try and beat them – Harry Potter, who had more Gryffindor courage and bloody-mindedness than most of the rest of them put together.

"You really are Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't you?" Remus said, unable to keep a pleased, wry, smile, out of his voice.

"I suppose," Harry said, looking down at a blade of grass he'd been unconsciously toying with, his cheek twitching with the effort of not grinning.

They sat in the dwindling twilight together for a few minutes, listening to the chatter and music from the wedding, the sounds of people having fun, from which they'd both been detached for far too long, and Remus decided the time was right. "I have a present for you," he said, and Harry looked up, his eyes widening a little in surprise. "I was going to save it for your birthday, but you seem in dire need of some cheering, so…."

Remus reached into the inside pocket of his robes and pulled out a small, white envelope, handing it to Harry and trying to hide his eagerness to see Harry open it. Harry looked at the envelope quizzically for a moment, and then peeled back the flap, peering inside, presumably, for a card, and then turning it upside down and shaking it when he could find nothing inside.

He shot Remus a perplexed look when nothing tumbled out onto the grass, and then the envelope erupted into life – miniature fireworks in every colour of the rainbow burst from underneath the flap and whizzed around them excitedly, and Harry watched, captivated, the corners of his mouth hitching into a smile. Then, miniature show girls in sparkly red costumes and feather headdresses leapt from the envelope and can-canned in front of him, before flashing and disappearing in a haze of red sparks, leaving the legend 'Cheer up, you miserable git!' burning in the early evening air as the envelope drifted back onto his lap. Harry stared at it open-mouthed for a moment, and then burst into peals of laughter.

"That's brilliant," he said.

"And re-usable," Remus said. "All you have to do is re-seal the envelope and then open it again. I thought there might be moments in the future when you'd require –"

Remus didn't get to finish his sentence, because Harry had thrown his arms around him in a brief hug that surprised and embarrassed them both.

But Remus didn't mind the embarrassment, and he loved the surprise, because in his wildest dreams, he never would have imagined such a spontaneous act of affection. He thought his heart might burst, and he was sure that how he felt was written right across his face and barely concealed by the twilight.

"Unfortunately I can't claim credit for it," Remus said, as Harry fiddled affectionately with the corner of the envelope. "Your mother used to send them to me when she thought I needed a reminder to keep my brooding in check." Harry sniggered – although to his immense credit, Remus thought, he kept it quiet enough that it was barely audible. "After a couple of years of intense begging on my part she showed me how to make them. She always was so much better at charms than the rest of us."

Harry beamed. "Thanks," he said.

"Don't mention it," Remus replied. "Happy Birthday."

They sat for a moment, Remus thinking of the girl on the Hogwarts Express who he'd offered a Chocolate Frog to and scared half to death, who'd laughed so hard when she was over her surprise that sweets could jump he'd thought she'd burst something, and then the boy she'd fallen in love with, who'd teased him about his frequent trips home, and then gone on to help him more than nearly anyone else ever had.

He wondered what they'd think of their son at seventeen. It was tempting – and true – to think of a boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders and nothing but sacrifice and sorrow in his future, but a disservice, too, to the friends he'd made who'd be with him to the very end if they had to be.

As Remus' eye was drawn back to the wedding – to Hermione, even at this distance obviously glaring at an oblivious Ron for not asking her to dance yet, to the twins, fox-trotting around the dance floor and laughing uproariously, to Ginny, dancing with Tonks and looking much more herself – he thought that parents couldn't ask for anything better than true friends for their children, and Harry had those in spades.

They got to their feet and walked back towards the party, life rising up to meet them with every step, the jangle of conversation, laughter and music mingling with the twilight air into a heady cocktail of happiness against the odds, defiant hopefulness, and love.

Mad-Eye appeared to have relented and was now tucking into a plate of sausage rolls, albeit still, apparently, a bit uneasy about it and half expecting to need to suck on a bezoar at any second, and all around people chatted, danced, and did all the normal things that people did at weddings in spite of everything.

Molly had got her way and a Celestina Warbeck number blared out across the dance floor, but Fleur didn't seem to mind as she danced with Arthur, exchanging gleeful smiles with Bill as he whirled his mother round and she batted him ineffectually on the shoulder and told him to slow down.

As they approached Tonks and Ginny, who were still chatting on the grass, Harry wiped his hands on his dress robes and shot increasingly nervous glances in their direction. Remus offered him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "You know she won't take it lying down," he said. "You'll save yourself a lot of time and trouble if you just give in now."

Harry let out a snort of amusement, but didn't seem convinced either way, and so as Ginny looked up and bid Harry a forced but cheery hello, Remus just took Tonks' hand, lead her back onto the dance floor and decided to leave them to it.

"All sorted, then?" Tonks said, turning into his embrace and winding her arms around his neck.

"Hmm," Remus replied, drawing her closer. "I told Harry that one noble prat was enough for any wedding party, and that if he wanted my role, he'd have to fight me for it."

Tonks chuckled against his chest, and he held her tightly, letting the feel and the sound of her laughter trickle through him. They moved around the dance floor, her treading on his toes and him not minding in the slightest, because it was a joyous day, and he had more reason than most to enjoy it.

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**A/N: Reviewers get a wedding slow dance to the song of their choice with their favourite Harry Potter character ;). **


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